With its architect, fell that surprising fabric of fraud and wrong, the rise and fall of which are commemorated in this history—a fabric which, if it had "risen like an exhalation," so like an exhalation had disappeared, and with it all the creatures which had peopled it. Though Mr. Runnington's vigilance and ability had set matters into such a train, that, had Mr. Gammon lived to continue his most skilful opposition, he could not have delayed for any considerable length of time Mr. Aubrey's restoration to Yatton, yet the sudden and most unexpected death of Mr. Gammon greatly accelerated that event. Notwithstanding the verdict of the coroner's inquest, both Mr. Aubrey and Mr. Runnington—and in fact very many others—strongly suspected the true state of the case; viz. that, in the desperation of defeat and dreaded exposure, he had destroyed himself.
Towards the close of the term, Mr. Runnington went to the proper office of the Court of King's Bench, in order to ascertain whether Mr. Titmouse had taken the requisite steps towards defending the actions of ejectment commenced by Mr. Aubrey, and found that, though the prescribed period had elapsed, he had not; in other words, that he had "SUFFERED JUDGMENT BY DEFAULT." Delighted, though not much surprised by this discovery, Mr. Runnington resolved at once to follow up his victory. 'Twas only a short and simple process that was requisite to effect such great results. He took a single sheet of draft paper on which he wrote some half-dozen lines called an "incipitur," as if he were going to copy out the "declaration" in ejectment, but stopped short about the fifth line. This sheet of paper, together with another containing his "Rule for Judgment," he took to the Master's office, in order that that functionary might "SIGN JUDGMENT"—which he did by simply writing in the margin of what Mr. Runnington had written, the words—"Judgment signed, 23d November 18—," then impressing above it the seal of the court; and behold, at that instant, the property in the whole of the Yatton estates had become vested in Mr. Aubrey again!
The next step requisite was to secure the possession of the property; for which purpose Mr. Runnington immediately procured a WRIT OF POSSESSION, (i.e. a writ requiring the sheriff of Yorkshire to put Mr. Aubrey into actual possession,) to be engrossed on a slip of parchment. This he got sealed; and then obtained a WARRANT from the sheriff to his officers, to execute the writ. Now the sheriff might, had it been necessary, have roused—nay, was bound to do so—the whole posse comitatus, in order to compel submission to his authority; and I can assure the reader that the whole posse comitatus would have answered his summons on that occasion very eagerly—but it was needless. Who was there to resist him at Yatton? The transference of the possession became under these circumstances a very slight matter-of-fact affair, and went off in this wise. The under-sheriff of Yorkshire drove up in his gig to the Hall, where he found Mr. Parkinson waiting his arrival—(no breaking open of doors was necessary!)—and in a word or two, informed Mr. Parkinson, with a smile, that he then delivered the possession to him for and on account of Charles Aubrey, Esquire, his heirs and assigns, forever—and after remarking, "what a fine estate it was, and in very good order, considering," he drove off. I may add, that to save the useless expense of some hundred writs of possession, "attornments" were taken from all the tenants—i. e. written acknowledgments that they held under Charles Aubrey, Esquire, as their sole, true, and proper landlord. This done, that gentleman was reinstated in all that he had been dispossessed of, as absolutely, and to all intents and purposes, as if the events of the last three years had been but a dream—as if such persons as Tittlebat Titmouse, and Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, had never existed; and Mr. Griffiths the steward, and Mr. Parkinson, by way of commemorating the event, opened a couple of bottles of port-wine, which, with the efficient assistance of Mr. Waters and Mr. Dickons, the upper and under bailiffs, Tonson the gamekeeper, and Pumpkin the gardener, were very quickly emptied amid shouts—in which 'tis hoped the good-natured reader will join—of "Hip, hip, hip, hurrah!—Hip, hip, hip, hurrah!—Hip, hip, hip, hurrah! hurrah! HURRAH!" Then phlegmatic Mr. Dickons stepped out into the court-yard, and, by way of further relieving his excited feelings, flung his heavy ashen walking-stick up a surprising height into the air; and when he had caught it on its descent, as he grasped it in his huge horny hand in silence, he shook it above his head with the feeling that he could have smashed a million of Titmice in a minute, if he could have got among them. Then he thought of Mrs. Aubrey and Kate, and up went the stick again, higher even than before—by which time they had all come out into the yard, and shouted again, and again, and again, till their voices rang and echoed in the air, and raised an uproar in the rookery behind them.
While this result of his triumphant exertions was being thus celebrated at Yatton, Mr. Runnington was stirring himself to the utmost in London, in order to extricate Mr. Aubrey from all his pecuniary embarrassments—the chief of which were, his two promissory notes for £5,000 each, with interest, and the actions depending upon them—the joint bond of himself and Lord De la Zouch for £10,000 and interest—and the action pending for the balance of Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap's bill—viz. £1,446, 14s. 6d. Undoubtedly, these matters occasioned him a vast deal of trouble and anxiety; but his experienced tact, and vigilance, and determination, overcame all obstacles. The balance of Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap's abominable bill of costs, melted away and totally disappeared in the heat of the taxing-office; and with the aid of certain summary applications, both to the Lord Chancellor and to the common-law judges, and after a good deal of diplomacy, Mr. Runnington succeeded in getting into his hands, cancelled, the above-mentioned two notes, on payment to Mr. Spitfire, for and on account of Mr. Titmouse, of £250, (of which Mr. Titmouse, by the way, got £15, the remainder being claimed by Spitfire in respect of costs.) The bond for ten thousand pounds, which was found in the strong box of the late Mr. Gammon, was delivered up by Messrs. Quirk and Snap, on certain hints being given them by Mr. Runnington of the serious consequences of refusal. Not satisfied with this, Mr. Runnington obtained from Mr. Titmouse a formal and solemn release and discharge, to Mr. Aubrey, his heirs, executors, and administrators, of all claims, debts, damages, sums of money, demands, costs, charges, bills, bonds, notes, accounts, reckonings, expenses, judgments, executions, actions, and suits whatsoever, either at law or in equity. But how stood the matter of Mr. Titmouse's liabilities to Mr. Aubrey, in respect of the mesne profits during the last two years and more? Why, he owed Mr. Aubrey a sum of some twenty-five thousand pounds—not one farthing of which would ever see its way into the pockets of him who had been so cruelly defrauded of it! The greatest trouble of Mr. Runnington, however, was the extorting of the Yatton title-deeds from the three Jews, Mordecai Gripe, Israel Fang, and Mephibosheth Maharshalal-hash-baz. Unhappy wretches! they writhed and gasped as though their very hearts were being torn out; but they had no help for it, as their own attorneys and solicitors told them; since the right of Mr. Aubrey to his title-deeds was as clear and indisputable as his right to the estates, and their resistance of his claim would only entail on them additional, very serious, and fruitless expense. They grinned, chattered, stuttered, and stamped about in impotent but horrible fury; and, if they could, would have torn Mr. Gammon out of his grave, and placed his body, and those of Messrs. Quirk and Snap, over a slow fire!
These gentlemen, were not, however, the only persons who had been astounded, dismayed, and defeated, by Mr. Gammon's leap into the dark. To say nothing of Mr. Wigley, who might now whistle for his debt and costs, and many other persons who had rested all their hopes upon Mr. Gammon's powers, and his responsibility, his sudden death precipitated total ruin upon his weak aristocratical dupe and victim, the poor old Earl of Dreddlington. In addition to the formidable movement against the earl and Mr. Gammon in the Court of Chancery, on the part of their co-shareholders and adventurers, for the purpose of securing them to be declared alone liable for all the debts contracted by the Gunpowder and Fresh Water Company, the creditors, rendered impatient and desperate by the sudden death of Mr. Gammon, began to attempt daily to harass the unfortunate earl with their personal importunity for payment of their demands, and that at his residence in Grosvenor Square and at Poppleton Hall. At the former they were, of course, uniformly encountered by the answer that his Lordship was both ill and out of town. Upon that, down to his Lordship's nearest country residence—viz. Poppleton—went the chief of his infuriate creditors, not believing the answer they had received at his Lordship's town-house; but at Poppleton, the earl was of course denied to them, and with a peremptoriness of manner, which, excited as they were, they converted into insolence and defiance, and a determined denial to his Lordship's creditors. Upon this, they took the opinion of counsel upon three points. First, whether a peer of the realm could be made a bankrupt if he became a trader; Secondly, whether the Earl of Dreddlington's active connection with the Gunpowder and Fresh Water Company constituted him a trader within the meaning of the bankrupt laws; and Lastly, whether the facts stated amounted to an act of bankruptcy. To this it was answered—First, that a peer could clearly be made a bankrupt if he traded, as an Earl of Suffolk had been declared a bankrupt by reason of an act of bankruptcy committed by him in buying and selling of wines, (per Lord Chancellor Hardwicke, in ex parte Meymot, 1 Atkyn's Reports, p. 201.) Secondly, that the Gunpowder and Fresh Water Company was one of such a nature as constituted its members "traders" within the meaning of the bankrupt laws. Thirdly, that the facts stated showed the committing of an act of bankruptcy, on the part of the Earl of Dreddlington, by "beginning to keep his house." Upon this, the more eager and reckless of his Lordship's creditors instantly struck a docket against him: and thereupon, down came the messenger of the court to take possession of his Lordship's houses and effects, both Grosvenor Square, Poppleton Hall, and in Cornwall, Wales, Scotland, and Ireland—that is, as to the last four, if he could discover them. At Poppleton he was sternly refused admission; on which he produced his authority, and protested that, if further denied, he would immediately proceed to effect an entrance by main force, come what might, and those within must take the consequences!—After a brief affrighted pause on the part of those within, he was admitted—and immediately declared himself to be in possession, under the bankruptcy, and by the authority of the Lord Chancellor, of the premises, and everything upon them; at the same time announcing to the dismayed inmates, that he would do nothing to give the slightest annoyance, or occasion apprehensions to the noble bankrupt personally. This very unusual occurrence found its way into the newspapers of the next day, which brought, accidentally, under the notice of Mr. Aubrey, the lamentable condition of his haughty yet fallen kinsman. He hurried off in alarm and agitation to Mr. Runnington, and requested him immediately to put himself into communication with the earl's solicitor, whoever he might be, with a view to saving him, if possible, from the indignity and ruin with which he was threatened; and then himself drove down to Poppleton, to tender his services in any way that might appear most desirable. He was shocked indeed at finding the house, and everything in it, in formal possession of the bankruptcy messenger; but much more so, on learning the deplorable condition of the earl personally. It appeared that he had most unfortunately witnessed, during a brief lucid interval, and while he was being assisted out of his carriage on his return from an airing, the arrival of the messenger, and his altercation with the servants at the door; and that, on being made acquainted with the true nature of the proceeding, he staggered back into the arms of Miss Macspleuchan, and was soon afterwards seized with another fit of paralysis. All this Mr. Aubrey, on his arrival, learned from Miss Macspleuchan—whom he knew only by name—and who communicated the dismal tidings in an agony of grief and agitation. The physician and apothecary were with the earl when Mr. Aubrey arrived; and finding that he could render no personal service to his suffering kinsman, he returned to town, assuring Miss Macspleuchan that she would see him again on the morrow—and that he would, in the mean while, do all in his power to avert from the earl the immediate effects of his fearful imprudence. Faithful to his promise, he instructed Mr. Runnington to do everything in reason to rescue the earl, and, in his person, the honor of the family, from the impending misfortune. 'Twas, however, all in vain. Two days afterwards, and before Mr. Runnington had acted upon the instructions given to him by Mr. Aubrey, the latter received intelligence by express from Poppleton, that the earl was in dying circumstances; that he was conscious of his rapidly approaching end; and was understood to have expressed a wish to see Mr. Aubrey before he died. When he arrived, he was at once ushered into the earl's bedchamber, and found the Duke of Tantallan sitting on one side of the bed, and Miss Macspleuchan on the other; she was weeping in silence, and her left hand was grasped between the thin white hands of the earl, whose face was turned towards her. His snow-white hair and wasted features, and the expression of mingled misery, feebleness, and affection that were in his eyes, fixed heavily upon Miss Macspleuchan, filled Mr. Aubrey with deep emotion. The earl seemed a mere skeleton! Shortly after Mr. Aubrey had entered the room, Miss Macspleuchan leaned down to the earl's ear, and, in a whisper, informed him of Mr. Aubrey's arrival. He did not seem at first to have heard, or at least comprehended, what she had said; but, a few moments afterwards, opened his eyes a little wider than they had been before, and his lips quivered as if with an effort at speaking. Then he very feebly extended both his thin arms towards Miss Macspleuchan, who was still leaning over him, and placed them tremblingly round her neck, from which, however, in a moment or two, they suddenly fell; the lower jaw also fell; the poor earl was dead—and Miss Macspleuchan, with a faint sigh, sank back in a swoon into the arms of the nurse who stood beside her, and who, assisted by a female attendant, immediately removed her from the room. The Duke of Tantallan remained sitting where he was, but with his face averted, and his right hand clasping one of the hands of his deceased kinsman: and Mr. Aubrey continued standing at the foot of the bed, his eyes covered by his hand. Neither of them spoke for some time. At length the duke, very deeply affected, slowly rose, and quitted the chamber in silence, followed by Mr. Aubrey, as those entered who were to commence the last sad offices for the dead.
The duke undertook all the arrangements for the funeral; and after much melancholy conversation with his Grace concerning the shocking state in which the earl had left his affairs, and having offered to provide, should it be necessary, for Miss Macspleuchan, Mr. Aubrey took his departure.
"Is the carriage at the door?" he inquired of the servant who stood in the hall expecting his approach.
"Yes, my Lord," he replied; and his words caused Lord Drelincourt almost to start back a step or two; and he changed color. Then he entered his carriage, and continued in a very melancholy and subdued mood during the whole of the drive up to town. He had, indeed, now become Lord Drelincourt—an event thus announced the next morning to the great world, in the columns of the obsequious Aurora.
"Yesterday, at his residence, Poppleton Hall, Hertfordshire, in his seventieth year, died the Right Hon. the Earl of Dreddlington, G.C.B., F.C.S., &c. &c. His Lordship was Fifth Earl of Dreddlington, and Twentieth Baron Drelincourt. The Earldom (created in 1667) is now extinct; but his Lordship is succeeded in the ancient barony of Drelincourt (created by writ, 12th Henry II.) by Charles Aubrey, Esq. of Yatton, in Yorkshire, the representative of the younger branch of the family, who is now 21st Lord Drelincourt, and has just succeeded in establishing his title to the whole of the Yatton property, which about two years ago, it may be remembered, was recovered in a very extraordinary manner (which is now, we believe, the subject of judicial inquiry) by Tittlebat Titmouse, Esq., at present M.P. for Yatton.
His Lordship (whois now in his thirty-sixth year) took a double first-class at Oxford, and sat for several years as member for Yatton. He married, in 18—, Agnes, sole daughter and heiress of the late Colonel St. Clair, who fell in the Peninsular war, and has issue by her Ladyship two children, Charles, born in 18—, and Agnes, born in 18—. His Lordship has no brothers, and only one sister, Miss Catharine Aubrey, who is understood to be affianced to the Hon. Mr. Delamere, the only son and heir of the Right Hon. Lord De la Zouch."
Till Yatton could be got ready for their reception, they had taken, as a temporary residence, a furnished house in Dover Street, only a few doors' distance from that of Lord De la Zouch; and on his arrival from Poppleton Hall, Lord Drelincourt found Lady Drelincourt and his sister had not yet returned from their afternoon's drive. When they drew up to the door, however, the closed shutters and drawn blinds apprised them of the melancholy event which had taken place. On hearing that Lord Drelincourt was alone in the drawing-room, where he had been for upwards of an hour, they rushed hastily up-stairs, and in a few moments Lord and Lady Drelincourt had fondly embraced each other, and Miss Aubrey, full of eager affection, had embraced both of them; and then, quitting the room, quickly returned with Charles and Agnes, now—little unconscious creatures!—the Honorable Charles and Honorable Agnes Aubrey. Surely it was not to be expected that any of them should entertain very poignant feelings of sorrow for the death of an individual who had ever totally estranged himself from them, and treated every member of their family with the most offensive and presumptuous insolence—with the bitterest contempt; who, when he knew that they were destitute and all but perishing, had kept cruelly aloof as ever, without once extending towards them a helping hand. Still they had regarded the afflicting circumstances which attended, and hastened, their lofty kinsman's death, with sincere commiseration for one so weak and misguided, and whose pride had had, indeed, so signal and fearful a fall. These were topics which afforded scope for sad but instructive conversation and reflection; and before Lord and Lady Drelincourt had laid their heads on their pillows that night, they again devoutly returned thanks to Heaven for the happy restoration which had been vouchsafed to them, and offered sincere and fervent prayers for its guidance in every stage of their future career.
This event, of course, threw them again, for a time, into mourning. Lord Drelincourt attended the funeral of the late earl, which took place at Poppleton, and was plain and private; and a few days afterwards, yearning to see Yatton once again, and anxious also to give his personal directions concerning very many matters which required them, he accepted an offer of a seat in the carriage of Lord De la Zouch, who was going down for a few days to Fotheringham on business of importance. Lord Drelincourt agreed to take up his abode at Fotheringham during his brief stay in Yorkshire, and to give no one at Yatton a previous intimation of his intention to pay a visit to them—purposing, the morning after his arrival at Fotheringham, to ride over quietly, alone and unexpectedly, to the dear place of his birth, and scene of such signal trials and expected joys of restoration and reunion.
'Twas about four o'clock in the afternoon of a frosty day in the early part of December; and Dr. Tatham was sitting alone in his plainly-furnished and old-fashioned little study, beside the table on which Betty, his old housekeeper, had just laid his scanty show of tea-things—the small, quaintly-figured round silver tea-pot having been the precious gift, more than twenty years before, of old Madam Aubrey. On his knee lay open a well-worn parchment-covered Elzevir edition of Thomas À Kempis, a constant companion of the doctor's, which he had laid down a few moments before, in a fit of musing—and was gazing in the direction of the old yew-tree, a portion of which, with a gray crumbling corner of his church, at only some two dozen yards' distance, was visible through the window. On one side of his book-shelves hung his surplice on one peg, and on another his gown; and on the other his rusty shovel-hat and walking-stick. Over the mantelpiece were suspended two small black profile likenesses of old Squire Aubrey and Madam Aubrey, which they had themselves presented to the doctor nearly thirty years before. Though it was very cold, there was but a handful of fire in the little grate; and this, together with the modicum of brown sugar in the sugar-basin, and about two small spoonfuls of tea, which he had just before measured out of his little tea-caddy, into the cup, in order to be ready to put it into his tea-pot, when Betty should have brought in the kettle—and four thin slices of scantily buttered brown bread—all this, I say, seemed touching evidence of the straitened circumstances in which the poor doctor was placed. His clothes, too, very clean, very threadbare, and of a very rusty hue—down even to his gaiters—suggested the same reflection to the beholder. The five pounds which he had scraped together for purchasing a new suit, Mr. Titmouse, it will be remembered, had succeeded in cheating him out of. His hair was of a silvery white; and though he was evidently a little cast down in spirits, the expression of his countenance was as full of benevolence and piety as ever. He was, moreover, considerably thinner than when he was last presented to the reader; and well he might be, for he had since undergone great privation and anxiety. He—he, peaceful unoffending old soul!—had long been followed with pertinacious bitterness and persecution by two new inhabitants of the village; viz. the Rev. Smirk Mudflint and Mr. Bloodsuck, junior. The former had obtained a lease from Mr. Titmouse of the little structure which had formerly been Miss Aubrey's school, and had turned it into an Unitarian chapel—himself and family residing in part of the building. He preached every Sunday at Dr. Tatham, turning his person, his habits, his office, and his creed into bitter ridicule; and repeatedly challenging him, from his pulpit, to an open discussion of the points in difference between them! By means of his "moral" discourses every Sunday morning, and his "political" discourses every Sunday evening—and which he used all his powers to render palatable to those who heard him—he was undoubtedly seducing away many of the parishioners from the parish church; a matter which began visibly to prey upon the doctor's spirits. Then Mr. Bloodsuck, too, was carrying on the campaign briskly against the parson—against whom he had got a couple of actions pending at the suit of parishioners, in respect of his right to certain tithes which had never before been questioned by any one. Only that very day the impudent jackanapes—for that, I am sure, you would have pronounced Mr. Barnabas Bloodsuck at first sight—had sent a very peremptory and offensive letter to the doctor, which had been designed by its writer to have the effect of drawing him into a sudden compromise; whereas the doctor, with a just sense and spirit, had resolved never in any way to suffer his rights, and those of his successors, to be infringed. Many and many a weary walk to Mr. Parkinson's office at Grilston had these persecuting proceedings of Bloodsuck's cost the doctor, and also considerable and unavoidable expense, which, had he been in any other hands than those of good Mr. Parkinson, must by this time have involved the doctor in utter ruin, and broken his heart. Still generous according to his means, the good soul had, on his last visit to Grilston, purchased and brought home with him a couple of bottles of port-wine, which he intended to take on Christmas-day to the poor brother parson in an adjoining parish, to whom I alluded in the early part of this history. All these matters might well occasion Dr. Tatham anxiety, and frequent fits of despondency, such as that under which he was suffering, when he heard a gentle tapping at his door, while sitting in his study as I have described him. "Come in, Betty," quoth the doctor, in his usual kind and quiet way, supposing it to be his old housekeeper with his tea-kettle; for she had gone with it a few minutes before across the yard to the well, leaving the front door ajar till her return. As he uttered the words above-mentioned, the door opened. He sat with his back towards it; and finding, after a pause, that no one entered or spoke, he turned round in his chair to see the reason why; and beheld a gentleman standing there, dressed in deep mourning, and gazing at him with an expression of infinite tenderness and benignity. The doctor was a little of a believer in the reality of spiritual appearances; and, taken quite off his guard, jumped out of his chair, and, stared for a second or two in mute amazement, if not even apprehension, at the figure standing silently in the doorway.
"Why! Bless—bless my soul—can it be"—he stammered, and the next instant perceived that it was indeed, as I may say, the desire of his eyes—Mr. Aubrey, now become, as the doctor had a few days before heard from Mr. Parkinson, Lord Drelincourt.
"Oh my dear, old, revered friend! Do I see you once again?" exclaimed his Lordship, in a tremulous voice, as he stepped hastily up to the doctor, with his arms extended, and, grasping the hand of the doctor with vehement pressure, they both gazed at each other for some moments in silence, and with the tears in their eyes—Lord Drelincourt's soul touched within him by the evident alteration which had taken place in Dr. Tatham's appearance.
"And is it indeed true, my dear friend?" at length faltered the doctor, still gazing fondly at Lord Drelincourt.
"It is your old friend, Charles Aubrey! dearest doctor! God bless you, revered friend and instructor of my youth!" said Lord Drelincourt, with a full heart and a quivering lip: "I am come, you see, once more to Yatton, and first of all to you; and in your presence to acknowledge the goodness of God, for He has been very good to me!"
"The Lord God of thy fathers bless thee!" exclaimed Dr. Tatham, solemnly; and Lord Drelincourt reverently received the benison. A few moments afterwards he sat down, opposite the doctor, in the only spare chair there was in the room, and they were instantly engaged in eager and affectionate converse.
"Why, Mr. Aubrey," quoth the doctor, with a smile, but also a slight embarrassment, "I had forgotten—Lord Drelincourt, how strangely it sounds!"
"Yes, it is true, such is now my name; but, believe me, I am not yet reconciled to it, especially, dearest doctor, in your presence! Shall I ever be as happy as Lord Drelincourt as I have been as Charles Aubrey?"
"Ay, ay, dear friend, to be sure you will! 'Tis in the course of God's providence that you are raised to distinction, as well as restored to that which is your own! Long may you live to enjoy both! and, I hope, at Yatton," he added earnestly.
"Oh, can you doubt it, dearest doctor? My heart is only now recovering the wounds it received in being torn from this dear spot!"
"And Mrs. Au—I mean Lady Drelincourt. God Almighty bless her! and Kate—sweet, dear Kate! Well! She has not changed her name yet, I suppose?"
"Not yet," replied Lord Drelincourt, with a cheerful smile.
"And do you mean to say that you are all coming to old Yatton again?" inquired the doctor, rubbing his hands.
"Coming to Yatton again? 'Tis a little paradise to all of us! Here we wish to live; and when we follow those who have gone before us, there we wish to rest!" said Lord Drelincourt, solemnly, and he pointed towards the churchyard, with a look that suddenly filled the doctor's eyes with tears, for it brought full before them the funeral of Mrs. Aubrey.
"I have something for you," said Lord Drelincourt, after a pause, taking out his pocket-book, "from my wife and sister, who charged me to give it into your own hands with their fervent love;" and he gave two letters into the doctor's hands, which trembled with emotion as he received them.
"I shall read them by-and-by, when I am alone," said he, as, gazing fondly at the superscriptions, he placed the two letters on the mantelpiece.
"Come in! come in!" quoth the doctor, quickly, hearing a knocking at the door—"that's Betty. You have not forgotten old Betty, have you?" said he to Lord Drelincourt, as the good old woman opened the door in a flustered manner, with the kettle in her hands, and dropped an awful courtesy on seeing Lord Drelincourt, whom she instantly recognized.
"Well, Betty," said he, with infinite cordiality, "I am glad to see you again, and to hear that you are well!"
"Yes, sir!—if you please, sir!—thank you, sir!" stammered Betty, courtesying repeatedly, and standing, with the kettle in her hand, as if she did not intend to come in with it.
"That will do, Betty," quoth the doctor, looking delighted at Lord Drelincourt's good-natured greeting of his faithful old servant; "bring it in! And Thomas is quite well, too," he added, turning to Lord Drelincourt—Thomas being Betty's husband—and both of whom had lived with the doctor for some eighteen or twenty years—Thomas's business being to look after the doctor's nag while he kept one, and now to do odd jobs about the little garden and paddock. After one or two kind inquiries about him, "I must join you, Doctor—if you please," said Lord Drelincourt, as Betty put the kettle on the fire; "you'll give me a cup of tea"——
"A cup of tea? Ay, to be sure! Betty! here," said he, beckoning her to him, and whispering to her to bring out the best tea-things, and to run out into the village for a couple of tea-cakes, and a little more tea, and some eggs and butter, and half a pound of lump sugar—for the doctor was bent upon doing the thing splendidly, on so great an occasion; but Lord Drelincourt, who overheard him, and who had asked to take tea with him only that he might not delay the doctor's doing so—(for Lord Drelincourt had not yet dined)—interposed, declaring that if anything of the sort were done, he would leave immediately; adding, that he expected his horses at the door every moment, and also that Lord De la Zouch (who had come over with him from Fotheringham, and had come down to the Hall) would presently call to join him on his way home. This secured Lord Drelincourt's wishes, and you might within a few minutes' time have seen him partaking of the doctor's humble beverage, while they continued in eager and earnest conversation. Lord Drelincourt had that morning had a very long interview with Mr. Parkinson, from whom he had learned the life of persecution which the poor doctor had led for the last two years—listening to it with the keenest indignation. The doctor himself softened down matters a good deal in the account which he gave Lord Drelincourt—but his Lordship saw at once that the case had not been in the least overstated by Mr. Parkinson; and, without intimating anything of his intentions to the doctor, resolved upon forthwith taking certain steps which, had they known them, would have made two conspicuous persons in the village shake in their shoes.
"What's that, Doctor?" suddenly inquired Lord Drelincourt, hearing a noise as of shouting outside. Now, the fact was, that the appearance of Lord Drelincourt, and Lord De la Zouch, and their two grooms, as they galloped down the village on their way to the Hall, (from which Lord Drelincourt, as I have stated, had walked to the vicarage, whither he was to be followed by Lord De la Zouch,) had created a pretty sensation in the neighborhood; for Lord Drelincourt, rapidly as he rode in, was soon recognized by those who were about, and the news spread like wildfire that "my Lord the squire" had come back, and was then at Yatton—a fact which seemed to be anything but gratifying to Messrs. Bloodsuck and Mudflint, who were talking together, at the moment when Lord Drelincourt asked the question of Dr. Tatham, at the door of Mr. Mudflint, whose face seemed to have got several degrees sallower within a quarter of an hour, while Mr. Bloodsuck looked quite white. There was a continually increasing crowd about the front of the vicarage; and as they got more and more assured of the fact that Lord Drelincourt was at that moment with Dr. Tatham, they began to shout "hurrah!" So——
"What's that?" inquired Lord Drelincourt.
"Ah!—I know!" cried the doctor, with not a little excitement; "they've found you out, bless them!—hark!—I have not heard such a thing I don't know how long—I wonder they don't set the bells a-ringing!—Why, bless me! there's a couple of hundred people before the door!" exclaimed he, after having stepped into the front room, and reconnoitred through the window. Though the gloom of evening was rapidly deepening, Lord Drelincourt also perceived the great number that had collected together, and his eye having caught the approaching figure of Lord De la Zouch, for whom, and the grooms, the crowd made way, he prepared to leave. Lord De la Zouch dismounted, and, entering the vicarage, shook hands with the utmost cordiality with the little doctor, whom he invited to dine and sleep at Fotheringham on the morrow, promising to send the carriage for him. The little doctor scarce knew whether he stood on his head or his heels, in the flurry of the moment; and when he and Lord Drelincourt appeared at the door, and a great shout burst from those present, it was with difficulty that he could resist his inclination to join in it. It was growing late, however, and they had a long ride before them: so Lord Drelincourt, having stood for some moments bareheaded and bowing to all around, and shaking hands with those who pressed nearest, following the example of Lord De la Zouch, mounted his horse, and waving his hand affectionately to Dr. Tatham, rode off amid the renewed cheers of the crowd. From that moment worthy little Dr. Tatham had regained all his former ascendency at Yatton!
As the two peers sat together over their wine that evening, the fate of the Rev. Mr. Mudflint, and Barnabas Bloodsuck, junior, "gentleman, &c.," was sealed. The more that they talked together about the wanton and bitter insult and persecution which those worthies had so long inflicted, upon one, surely, of the most inoffensive, peaceable, and benevolent beings upon the earth, Dr. Tatham, the higher rose their indignation, the sterner their determination to punish and remove his enemies. The next morning Lord De la Zouch wrote up to town, directing instructions to be given to Mr. Winnington, who had conducted the proceedings in the actions of Wigley v. Mudflint, and Wigley v. Bloodsuck, to issue execution forthwith. Lord Drelincourt also did his part. Almost every house in the village was his property, and he instructed Mr. Parkinson immediately to take steps towards summarily ejecting the two aforesaid worthies from the premises they were respectively occupying—convinced that by so doing he was removing two principal sources of filth and mischief from the village and neighborhood; for they were the founders and most active members of a sort of spouting-club for radical and infidel speechifying, and which club their presence and influence alone kept together.
Early the next morning Lord Drelincourt returned to the Hall, having appointed several persons to meet him there, on business principally relating to the restoration of the Hall to its former state, as far as was practicable; at all events, to render it fit for the reception of the family within as short a period as possible. According to an arrangement he had made before quitting town, he found, on reaching the Hall, a gentleman from London, of great taste and experience, to whose hands was to be intrusted the entire superintendence of the contemplated reparations and restorations, both internal and external, regard being had to the antique and peculiar character of the mansion—it being his Lordship's anxious wish that Lady Drelincourt and Miss Aubrey, on their return, should see it, as nearly as might be, in the condition in which they had left it. Fortunately, the little Vandal who had just been expelled from it had done little or no permanent or substantial injury. There was the same great irregular mass of old brickwork, with its huge stacks of chimneys, just as they had ever known it, only requiring a little pointing. That fine old relic, the castellated gateway, clad in ivy, with its gray, crumbling, stone-capped battlements, and escutcheon over the point of the arch, had suffered no change; even the quaint, weather-beaten sun-dial stood in the centre of the grass-plot, within the court-yard, as they had left it. The yew-trees still lined the high walls which surrounded the court-yard; and the fine old clump of cedars of Lebanon was there—green, stately, and solemn, as in days of yore. The moment, however, that you passed the threshold of the Hall, you sighed at the change that had taken place. Where were now the armed figures, the pikes, bows, guns, spears, swords, and battle-axes, and the quaint old pictures of the early ancestors of the family of the Aubreys? Not a trace to be seen of them; and it gave Lord Drelincourt a pang as his eye travelled round the bare walls. But the case was not desperate. All the aforesaid pictures still lay rolled up in the lumber-room, where they had continued as articles utterly valueless ever since Mr. Titmouse had ordered them to be taken down. They had been brought from their obscurity, and now lay on the floor, having been carefully unrolled and examined by the man of taste, who undertook quickly to remove the incipient ravage of mould and dirt at present visible, and to have them suspended in their former position, in such a state as that only the closest scrutiny could detect any difference between their present and former condition. The other relics of antiquity—viz. the armor—had been purchased by the late Lady Stratton at one of the sales of Titmouse's effects, occasioned by an execution against him, and they still were at her late residence, and of course at Lord Drelincourt's disposal, as her Ladyship's administrator. These, on his seeing them, the man of taste pronounced to be very fine and valuable specimens of old English armor, and undertook to have them also in their old places, and in a far better condition even than before. Lord Drelincourt sighed repeatedly as he went over every one of the bare and deserted rooms in the mansion—nothing being left except the beautiful antique mantelpieces of inlaid oak, and the oak-panelling of the different apartments, which, as a part of the freehold, could not be seized as the personal property of Mr. Titmouse. His creditors had swept off, from time to time, everything that had belonged to him. The hall, the dining-room, breakfast-room, drawing-rooms, the library, the bedrooms, dressing-rooms, boudoirs of Mrs. Aubrey and his sister, the long galleries, the rooms in which Charles and Agnes used to romp and play about—were all now bare and desolate, and the echoes of their footfalls and voices, in passing through them, struck Lord Drelincourt's heart with sadness. But all this was to be easily and quickly remedied; for a carte blanche was given to the man of taste at his elbow, who undertook within two, or at most three months' time, to leave nothing for the eye or the heart to sigh for—guided, moreover, as all his movements would be, by those who were so deeply interested in their success. On reaching the two rooms in the north-eastern extremities of the building, the windows of which commanded a view of nearly three-fourths of the estate, he gazed around him in silence,—one which those beside him thoroughly appreciated. There was nothing to shock the eye or pain the heart; for as Mr. Titmouse had been restrained from cutting timber, behold! what a sight would be seen when, in the approaching spring, the groves and forests, stretching far and wide before him, should have put on all their bravery! And he found on inquiry, and going over a portion of the grounds, that Mr. Waters and Dickons had kept pretty sharp eyes about them, and maintained everything in infinitely better condition than could have been expected. Mr. Tonson had, moreover, looked very keenly after the game; and Pumpkin undertook, by spring-time, to make his gardens and greenhouses a sight delightful to behold. In a word, Lord Drelincourt left everything under the management of the London man of taste and of Mr. Griffiths, the former being guided, of course, in the purchase of the leading articles of furniture in town, from time to time, by the tastes of Lord and Lady Drelincourt, and Miss Aubrey. Mr. Griffiths was desired to re-engage as many of the former servants of Mr. Aubrey as he could; and informed Lord Drelincourt of two, in particular, who had signified their anxious wish to him on the subject; viz. Mrs. Jackson, the housekeeper, who had lived in that capacity with a brother of hers at York, on quitting the service of Mrs. Aubrey. She was, of course, to be immediately reinstated in her old place. The other was Harriet, Miss Aubrey's maid, who, it may be recollected, was so disconsolate at being left behind by Miss Aubrey, who had secured her a place at the late Lady Stratton's, at whose house she still lived, with several of the other servants, the establishment not having been yet finally broken up. The poor girl very nearly went distracted with joy on receiving, a short time afterwards, an intimation, that as soon as she had got her clothes in readiness, she might set off for town, and enter at once upon her old duties as lady's maid to Miss Aubrey. Finding, on inquiry, that there was not one single tenant upon the estate, whose rent had not been raised above that which had been paid in Mr. Aubrey's time, he ordered the rent of all to be reduced to their former amount, and inquiries to be made after several respectable tenants, whom the extortion of Mr. Titmouse and his agents had driven from their farms, with a view of restoring them, in lieu of their very questionable successors. Having thus set everything in train for a restoration to the former happy and contented state of things which prevailed at Yatton before the usurpation of Mr. Titmouse, Lord Drelincourt returned to town; but first left a hundred pounds in Dr. Tatham's hands, to be distributed as he thought proper among the poorer villagers and neighbors on Christmas-eve; and also insisted on the doctor's acceptance, himself, of fifty pounds in advance, on account of his salary, a hundred a-year, as chaplain to Lord Drelincourt, which appointment the doctor received from his Lordship's own hands, and with not a little delight and pride. His Lordship, moreover, desired Mr. Parkinson to hold him responsible for any little demand which might be due from the poor doctor, in respect of the litigation in which he had been involved; and thus Dr. Tatham was made a free man of again, with no further question about his right to tithes, or any more of the interruption of any of the sources of his little income, to which he had lately been subjected; and with fifty pounds, moreover, at his absolute disposal. The doctor made his appearance on Christmas-day in a very fine suit of black, new hat and all, and had a very full attendance at church, and, moreover, a very cheerful and attentive one.
A day or two after Lord Drelincourt's return to town, Messrs. Mudflint and Bloodsuck received a very pressing invitation to York Castle, whose hospitable owners would receive no refusal. In plain English, they were both taken in execution on the same day, by virtue of two writs of capias ad satisfaciendum, for the damages and costs due to Mr. Wigley; viz. £2,960, 16s. 4d. from Smirk Mudflint, and £2,760, 19s. from Barnabas Bloodsuck, junior. Poor Mr. Mudflint! In vain—in vain had been his Sunday evenings' lectures for the last three months, on the errors which pervaded all systems of jurisprudence which annexed any pecuniary liabilities to political offences, instead of leaving the evil to be redressed by the spontaneous good sense of society. A single tap of the sheriff's officer on the eloquent lecturer's shoulder, upset all his fine speculations; just as Corporal Trim said, that one shove of the bayonet was worth all Dr. Slop's fine metaphysical discourses upon the art of war!
In the next Yorkshire Stingo, (which, alas! between ourselves, was very nearly on its last legs,) there appeared one of, I must own, the most magnificent articles of the kind which I ever read, upon the atrocious and unparalleled outrage on the liberties of the subject, which had been committed in the incarceration of the two patriots—the martyr-patriots—Mudflint and Bloodsuck. On that day, it said, the sun of liberty had set on England forever—in fact, for it was a time for speaking out—it had gone down in blood. The enlightened patriot, Mudflint, had at length fallen before the combined forces of bigotry and tyranny, which were now, in the shape of the Church of England and the aristocracy, riding rough-shod over the necks of Englishmen. In his person lay prostrate the sacred rights of conscience, and the inalienable liberty of Englishmen. He had stood forth, nobly foremost, in the fray between the people and their oppressors; and he had fallen!—but he felt how dulce et decorum it was, pro patri mori! He felt prouder and happier in his bonds than could ever feel the splendid fiend at F——m, in all his blood-stained magnificence! It then called upon the people, in vivid and spirit-stirring language, to rise against their tyrants like one man, and the days of their oppressors were numbered; and stated that the first blow was already struck against the black and monstrous fabric of priestcraft and tyranny; for that a SUBSCRIPTION had been already opened on behalf of Mr. Mudflint and Mr. Bloodsuck, for the purpose of discharging the amount of debt and costs for which they had been so infamously deprived of their liberty. An unprecedented sensation had—it seemed—been already excited; and a reference to the advertising columns of their paper would show that the work went bravely on. The friends of religious and civil liberty all over the country were roused; they had but to continue their exertions, and the majesty of the people would be heard in a voice of thunder. This article produced an immense sensation in that part of York Castle where the patriots were confined, and in the immediate neighborhood of the office of the Yorkshire Stingo, (in fact, it had emanated from the masterly pen of Mudflint himself.) Sure enough, on referring to the advertising columns of the Stingo, the following did appear fully to warrant the tone of indignant exultation indulged in by the editor:—
Subscriptions already received (through C. Woodlouse) towards raising a fund for the liberation of the Reverend Smirk Mudflint and Barnabas Bloodsuck, junior, Esq., at present confined in York Castle.
| An ardent admirer of the talents and character of the Reverend Smirk Mudflint | £ | 200 0 0 |
| Several friends of the Rev. S. M | | 150 0 0 |
| Anonymous | | 100 0 0 |
| John Brown, Esq. | | 50 0 0 |
| James Smith, Esq. | | 50 0 0 |
| John Jones, Esq. | | 50 0 0 |
| Sir Harkaway Rotgut Wildfire, Bart. | | 50 0 0 |
Now, to conceal nothing from the reader, I regret being obliged to inform him that, with the exception of Sir H. R. Wildfire, Bart., the above noble-spirited individuals, whom no one had ever heard of in or near to Grilston, or, in fact, anywhere else, had their local habitation and their name only in the fertile brain of the Rev. Mr. Mudflint; who had hit upon this device as an effectual one for getting up the steam, (to use a modern and significant expression,) and giving that mighty impulse which was requisite to burst the bonds of the two imprisoned patriots.
Sir Harkaway's name was in the list, to be sure, but that was on the distinct understanding that he was not to be called on to pay one farthing; the bargain being, that if he would give the sanction of his name to Messrs. Mudflint and Bloodsuck, they would allow him to have the credit, gratis, of so nobly supporting the Liberal cause.
The following, however, were real and bon fide names and subscriptions collected, with immense exertion, during the ensuing three weeks; and though, when annexed to the foregoing flourishing commencement of the list, they give it, I must own, a somewhat tadpole appearance, yet here they are:—
| Subscriptions already received | £ | 650 | 0 | 0 |
| Cephas Woodlouse, Esq. | | 1 | 1 | 0 |
| Barnabas Bloodsuck, Esq., senior | | 1 | 1 | 0 |
| Gargle Glister, Esq. | | 0 | 10 | 0 |
| Going Gone, Esq. | | 0 | 7 | 0 |
| Simon Snooks, Esq. | | 0 | 5 | 0 |
| "Tyrants, beware!!" | | 0 | 2 | 6 |
| "One who is ready to ascend the scaffold, if required" | | 0 | 2 | 0 |
| "Behemoth" | | 0 | 1 | 6 |
| "A foe to priestcraft" | | 0 | 1 | 0 |
| "Britons NEVER shall be slaves!" | | 0 | 0 | 9 |
| "Down with the aristocracy!" | | 0 | 0 | 6 |
| "Free inquiry" | | 0 | 0 | 4 |
| "Brutus and Cassius" | | 0 | 0 | 4 |
| "Virtue in prison, better than vice in a castle" | | 0 | 0 | 3 |
| "Defiance!" | | 0 | 0 | 2 |
| Small sums | | 0 | 0 | 1¾ |
| | —————— |
| Making a grand total of sums actually received by the editor of the Yorkshire Stingo, of | £ | 3 | 13 | 5¾ |
Certainly this was "not as good as had been anticipated"—as the editor subsequently owned in his leading article—and asked, with sorrowful indignation, how the people could expect any one to be true to them if they were not true to themselves! "Our cheeks," said he, "tingle with shame on looking at the paltry list of additional contributions—'Oh, lame and impotent conclusion' to so auspicious a commencement!"—This was very fine indeed. It came very well from Mr. Woodlouse in his editorial capacity; but Mr. Woodlouse, in his capacity as a man of business, was a very different person. Alas! that it should fell to my lot to inquire, in my turn, with sorrowful indignation—was there NO honor among thieves? But, to come to the point, it fell out in this wise. Patriots must live, even in prison; and Mr. Mudflint, being sorely pressed, wrote a letter to his "Dear Woodlouse," asking for the amount of subscriptions received up to that date. He received, in return, a most friendly note, addressed "My dear Mudflint," full of civilities and friendly anxieties—hoping the air of the Castle agreed with him—assuring him how he was missed from the Liberal circle, and that he would be welcomed with open arms if ever he got out—and—enclosing a nicely drawn out debtor and creditor account!! headed—
The Rev. Smirk Mudflint and Barnabas Bloodsuck, Esq., in account with Cephas Woodlouse, [in which every farthing of the above sum of £3, 13s. 5¾d. was faithfully set down to the credit side, to be sure; but, alas!—on the DEBIT side stood the following!]—
| To advertising lists of Subscriptions in Y. S. (three weeks) | £ | 3 | 15 | 6 |
| To Circulars, Hand-bills, &c. (as per order) | | 2 | 13 | 9 |
| Postage and Sundries | | 0 | 4 | 3 |
| To Circulars, Hand-bills, &c. (as per order) | | ———— |
| £ | 6 | 13 | 6 |
| By cash, amount of Subscriptions received | | 3 | 13 | 5¾ |
| To Circulars, Hand-bills, &c. (as per order) | | ———— |
| Balance due to C. W | £ | 0 | 0 | 0¼ |
On perusing the above document, so pregnant with perfidy and extortion, Mr. Mudflint put it into his pocket, and, slipping off to his sleeping-room, closed the door, took off his garters, and, with very deadly intentions towards himself was tying them together—casting a ghastly glance, occasionally, at a great hook in the wall, which he could just reach by standing on a stool—when he was discovered, and removed with his hands fastened behind him, "to the strong room," where he was firmly attached to a heavy wooden bench, and left to his meditations. Solitude and reflection restored the afflicted captive to something like composure and resignation; and after meditating long and deeply on the selfishness and worthlessness of worldly friendship, his thoughts gradually turned towards a better place—a haven of rest—viz. the Insolvent Debtors' Court.
The effect of this infamous treatment upon his fellow-captive, Bloodsuck, was quite different. Having sworn one single prodigious oath, he enclosed the above account, and sent it off to his father, in the following pithy letter:—
"York Castle, Dec. 29, 18— "Dear Father,—Read the enclosed! and then sell up Woodlouse.—Your dutiful Son, B. Bloodsuck, Jun."
The old gentleman, on reading this laconic epistle, and its enclosure, immediately issued execution against Woodlouse, on a cognovit of his for £150, which he had given to the firm of Bloodsuck and Son for the balance of a bill of theirs for defending him unsuccessfully against an action for an infamous libel. Nobody would bid anything for his moribund "Stingo;" he had no other effects, and was immediately taken in execution, and sent to York Castle, where he, Bloodsuck, and Mudflint, whenever they met, could hardly be restrained from tearing one another's eyes out.
'Tis thus that reptiles of this sort prey upon each other!—To "begin nothing of which you have not well considered the end," is a saying, the propriety of which every one recognizes when he hears it enunciated, but no one thinks of in the conduct of actual life; and what follows, will illustrate the truth of my reflection. It seemed a capital notion of Mudflint's to send forth such a splendid list of sham subscribers, and it was natural enough for Mr. Bloodsuck to assent to it, and Mr. Woodlouse to become the party to it which he did—but who could have foreseen the consequences? A quarrel among rogues is almost always attended with ugly and unexpected consequences to themselves. Now, here was a mortal feud between Mr. Woodlouse on the one side, and Messrs. Mudflint and Bloodsuck on the other; and in due time they all applied, as a matter of course, for relief under the Insolvent Debtors' Act. Before they got to the question concerning the nature of the debt—viz. the penalties in an action for the odious offence of bribery—in the case of Mr. Mudflint, he had to encounter a very serious and truly unexpected obstacle—viz. he had given in, with the minutest accuracy, the items of the subscription, amounting to £3, 13s. 5¾d., but had observed the most mysterious and (as he might have supposed) politic silence concerning the greater sum of £650, and which had been brought under the notice of the creditors of Messrs. Mudflint and Bloodsuck by Mr. Woodlouse. On the newspaper acknowledging the receipt of that large sum being produced in court, Mr. Mudflint made very light of the matter, simply smiling and shrugging his shoulders; but when Mr. Woodlouse was called as a witness, you may guess the consternation of Mr. Mudflint, on hearing him swear that he had certainly never himself received the money, but had no doubt of Mr. Mudflint having done so—which, in fact, had always been his impression; for when Mr. Mudflint had furnished him with the list, which he handed up to court, in Mudflint's handwriting, he inserted it in his paper as a matter of course—taking it to be a bon fide and matter-of-fact transaction. The evident consternation of Mudflint satisfied all who heard him of his villany, and of the truth and honesty of Woodlouse, who stuck to this new version of the affair manfully. But this opened quite a new view of his position to Mr. Bloodsuck; who, on finding that he must needs adopt either Mudflint's or Woodlouse's account of the matter, began to reflect upon the disagreeable effect it would have, thereafter, upon the connection and character of the respectable firm of Bloodsuck and Son, for him to appear to have been a party to such a shocking fraud upon the public, as a sham list of subscribers, and to so large an amount. He therefore swore stoutly that he, too, had always been under the impression that Mr. Mudflint had received the £650!! and very much regretted to find that that gentleman must have been appropriating so large a sum to himself, instead of being now ready to divide it between their respective creditors. This tallied with Woodlouse's account of the matter; and infinitely disgusted was that gentleman at finding himself so cleverly outwitted by Bloodsuck. On this Mudflint turned with fury upon Bloodsuck, and he upon Mudflint, who abused Woodlouse; and eventually the commissioners, unable to believe any of them, remanded them all, as a pack of rogues, till the next court day; addressing a very stern warning to Mr. Mudflint, concerning the serious consequences of his persisting in fraudulently concealing his property from his creditors. By the time of his being next brought up, the persecuted Mudflint had bethought himself of a bold mode of corroborating the truth of his explanation of that accursed first list of subscribers—viz. summoning Sir Harkaway Rotgut Wildfire as a witness in his behalf; whom he confidently asked whether, for all his name appeared in the subscription list, he had really ever given one farthing of the £50 there mentioned? Now, had our friend Mudflint been a long-headed man, he would not have taken this step; for Sir Harkaway could never be supposed capable of bringing himself to admit that he had been a party to such a dirty deceit upon the public as he was now charged with. On a careful consideration of the circumstances, therefore, Sir Harkaway, having an eye solely to his own credit, first said, with a somewhat haughty, but at the same time embarrassed air, that he was not in the habit of allowing his name to appear in such lists without his having actually paid the sum named, then, on being pressed, he swore that he thought he must have paid it; then, that he had very little doubt on the subject; then, that he had no doubt on the matter at all; then, that he knew that in point of fact he had advanced the money; and finally, that he then recollected all the circumstances most distinctly!—On this complete confirmation of the roguery of Mudflint, he was instantly reprimanded severely, and remanded indefinitely; the whole court believing that he had appropriated to his own use every farthing of the £650, defrauding even his fellow-prisoner, Mr. Bloodsuck. It was a good while before Mudflint recovered from the effects of this astounding conduct of Sir Harkaway. When his wits had returned to him, he felt certain that, somewhere or other, he had a letter from Sir Harkaway which would satisfy everybody of the very peculiarly unpleasant position in which the worthy baronet had placed himself. And sure enough, on desiring his wife to institute a rigorous search among his papers, she succeeded in discovering the following remarkable document, which she at once forwarded to her disconsolate husband:—
"View-Hallo Hall, 27th Dec. 18—.
"Sir,
"I have a considerable regard for your services to liberty, (civil and religious,) and am willing to serve you in the way you wish. You may
put me down, therefore, in the list for anything you please, as my name carries weight in the county—but, of course, you know better than to
kill your decoy duck."
"Sir, your obedient servant,
"H. R. Wildfire.
"The Rev. S. Mudflint, &c., &c."
This unfortunate letter, in the first frenzy of his rage and exultation, Mudflint instantly forwarded, with a statement of facts, to the editor of the True Blue newspaper, which carried it into every corner of the county on the very next morning; and undoubtedly gave thereby a heavy blow and a great discouragement to the Liberal cause all over Yorkshire; for Sir Harkaway had always been looked upon as one of its very stanchest and most powerful supporters.
